Easier to Lie
by for you to notice
Summary: She didn't love him. She didn't love his brother, she didn't know his brother. She had to get out of this cycle. Peyton, early first season. One shot.


_This is just a short piece from the first few episodes. If you want to classify it, it's probably a Lucas/Peyton more than anything else. I think it's just interesting to think of their lives prior to the pilot._

"Peyton, it's not that big of a deal."

She sat up, crossing her arms across her chest and turning her head away from him. "It is to me."

"But Peyton, it's over. It doesn't matter what happened, because now it's just you and me. Just you and me, baby, so forget about him."

She closed her eyes as he pulled her closer, using a strong arm to bend her down so she was lying down again. She felt his lips on hers, more of a formality now than a form of foreplay. His hands were under her shirt, his fingers rough from the weight room, probably another overload. They seemed to be very common lately, especially with Dan hounding him about stepping up his game so that blonde streetballers wouldn't even be a threat in the first place. And she could feel it in his chest, not that he had ever been soft or the best pillow in the world, but he was getting even harder and more defined.

His face was the only tender part of his body, because he always kissed her with a slow rhythm, maybe because he was never sure why they were kissing when they could be doing other things. And they tended to do a lot of other things when Dan was riding him hard. Usually she ended up riding him just as hard.

She turned her head to the side so his mouth landed on her ear. She turned back, having gotten his attention and touched his hair.

"I love you, you know, Nathan."

"Yeah, whatever. Love you too." She felt his mouth again; he was in more of a rush, not wanting to have to repeat the words. Not that she did either. She didn't really. Love him, that is. It was something they told each other to justify taking off their clothes. He made it more apparent than she did, but Brooke pointed out to her that she was the same way. Brooke had never been the queen of romance, but she did mention to Peyton that she might deserve a little more feeling if she was willing to call him boyfriend. Or she could just be like Brooke and call him baby instead. Call a lot of guys baby. Brooke said 'baby' was best, because it was personal, but you didn't actually have to go to the trouble of remembering their names.

While she had been distracted, he had opened the drawer by her bed and pulled out the row of condoms. He pulled one off, clumsily so the next one's wrapper was ruined.

They hadn't always been this way. She could remember when he would date her, and bring her out, and buy her things she didn't need. They would never really talk, but they used to kiss a lot more than they did recently. He would mention something about not being happy, and she would touch him, and they would just kiss. They had sex when they were happy; they kissed when they were sad. Now the emotions kind of blurred together.

"Don't you ever turn it off?"

"What?" she asked, blinking quickly.

He sighed and threw her shirt perfectly over her webcam. "I know we're good, but I don't know if we're ready for _that_ yet."

"Oh, right." She laughed nervously. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged and kissed her neck. It was supposed to hint to her that she should be kissing his. He was the star of the basketball team. She should know by now that nothing he did was really for her.

She ran her hand up his neck, through the fine hair, and gently licked up to his ear. He exhaled harder; he never really made noises, saying they weren't in porn. He pushed her back down, forcefully, but not really violently. All their sex was the same. That had changed too. They used to have different sex for different occasions. When he won a game, or did particularly well, it was quicker and more passionate. When it was Valentine's Day or his birthday or she initiated it, it was intimate and like movies told her it was going to be like. Now it was indifferent. Sometimes she wondered if he even knew her name when he was on the brink of orgasm.

And he never really held her, even if he tried to after they were finished. It was uncomfortable and awkward when they were in his or her bed. Otherwise he could just take her home. If they were at one of their houses, there was the feeling of a one night stand or that he was kicking her out.

"Well, I should go. Practice starts in about ten minutes."

"Okay." She sat up off his chest, bringing the sheet with her. He sat up too, pushing her hair back and covering her entire cheek with his hand.

"Don't worry about Lucas, Peyton. I didn't mean when I said I was willing to lose you. We're too good together for that. And I... love you."

"I love you too." She smiled a tiny smile and leaned backward onto her elbows.

He nodded. "So are we okay here?" He laughed nervously, ducking his eyes from hers.

"Yeah. We're fine."

"All right. I'll see you later." He kissed her forehead quickly and pulled his pants and shirt on.

"Bye Nathan."

He nodded firmly, smiling the best way he could.

And she would dress for practice, and he would give her another one of those forced smiles as he was running around the court, and Brooke would ask something inappropriate about his endurance off it. She was used to it; she understood it. It was a lot more comfortable than trying to cuddle with him. The days would go by with the same sex and the same words and the same attempts at making her feel like more than a whore. Trying to make her feel like more than his mother. It made sense. They were the golden couple, and they always looked good together, even when they were fighting in the halls. Even seniors knew who they were.

Except sometimes, Peyton would look up and another blue eyed boy would be looking back at her. He looked down as soon as she looked up, and his cheeks reddened. And she assumed it was picturing her naked, or remembering her naked from that webcam that made her boyfriend call her a porn star when he was being nice. But when he got close enough to talk to her, it wasn't about how technically he won her away from his brother, or about how compatible they would be sexually. It was personal conversation, simple while still being intimate. And it made Peyton wonder which Scott it was that she saw when her sex partner was probably picturing Taylor James.


End file.
